


Father of the bride

by ms_cataclysm



Series: Winterfair Gifts [3]
Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 06:05:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3346304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ms_cataclysm/pseuds/ms_cataclysm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Count Pierre Vormuir contemplates a suitor for his youngest daughter.</p><p>Uses characters from the Winterfair Gift series and precedes episodes one and two chronologically but is recommended for reading after those episodes. This is mildly AU for the reasons mentioned in episode one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Father of the bride

Such a pity that Emperor Dorca had taken one look at seventeen year old Natalya and decided that she was not the right bride for his difficult younger son . 

Not that Natalya wasn't very … charming … but an Imperial bride needed decorum , a pelvic arch worthy of an imperial aqueduct and the hide of a rhinoceros . And after marriage settlements for four older sisters, it was unlikely that even the famously frugal Count Vormuir would be able to come up with the sort of dowry that would sweep away cautious old Dorca's doubts.

While Emperor Dorca hesitated, the Vorkosigans had snapped Natalya up for young Lord Selig. The news -if it was indeed news to Dorca – cheered him so much that he had shaken off the gout that had kept him in bed for weeks. The Emperor had remained in the capitol only long enough to despatch Xav on an urgent trade mission to Komarr, Escobar and Beta and to buy an expensive present for the young couple to show his imperial approval. As an afterthought, he had then taken great pleasure in ignoring his doctors advice and departed on an extended “hunting trip” on his estates with both Hettie Vorvolk and Nina Vorlakial. 

Natalya had shrugged her thin shoulders and had set herself wholeheartedly to making it clear to the whole of Vormuir District and Vorbarra Sultana that the future Lady Vorkosigan was to be envied not pitied. If her private feelings were different, then that was no one's business but her own. In truth, she was not entirely sure what those feelings were. She missed Xav, one of the few who talked to her as if she was a person and not a silly little girl . Throughout her seventeen years, Nadia's four older sisters had protected her from everything and everyone except themselves with a devotion as alarming as it was complete. 

She wanted to tell him about her father's joy when she had unwrapped the Imperial betrothal gift -followed swiftly by his chagrin at the realisation that they would need to display every one of the 240 fragile and expensive pieces intact to the wedding guests which meant going to the trouble and expense of commissioning suitably fine cabinets which he would only have to send on to Vorkosigan castle when she got married. Evidently Dorca had not entirely forgiven her father for letting her flirtation with Xav carry on so long. 

She could have laughed with Xav over the story, knowing that he would have shared her amusement and kept the details to himself. If of course Xav had been there and not been quite so intimately concerned. As it was she had best remain silent . There was no one that she could talk to now.

**************************************************************************************

Count Pierre Vormuir did not enjoy breakfast. 

There were jugs of freshly squeezed orange juice -cold, sweet and delicious . They reminded him of the glut of hothouse oranges going to waste in his warehouses instead of being rushed to Vorbarra Sultana for the Winterfair markets. Damn that idiot Vorinnis for making such a mess of his district in the first place and then being so slow clearing the rebels off the roads. But what could you expect of Vorinnis, vacillating between being a progressive and a traditionalist Count and not succeeding at being either one?

There were Dendarii style pancakes and maple sugar and cinnamon rolls as well as the usual grits. He would have to have another word with the housekeeper about restraint and the importance of setting an example of domestic economy to their liege people. 

There were other superfluous presences at the table. Usually, breakfast was a meal he shared with his only unmarried child, seventeen year old Tallie . Why were his four older girls here eating his breakfast when they had perfectly good husbands and breakfast tables of their own? He had certainly paid out enough for their dowries without having them batten on him. 

His eldest daughter, Sofia, noticed his sour expression and smiled serenely at him in that irritating way of hers which signalled that she was being admirably kind and patient with her grumpy father. He hated being managed and particularly hated being managed by Sofia. 

“Papa, the cook has made test batches of Vorkosigan district delicacies for the be - … for the formal meal. She wondered if we would try them for her.” 

He should have been amused by his too-perfect daughter's slip. Vor protocol demanded that no reference be made to a betrothal until the heads of the families had announced their consent . But the reference to his youngest daughter's latest suitor did nothing to improve Pierre's mood. 

He had no objection to young Selig Vorkosigan – how could he when he barely knew the boy? - and what father wouldn't want his daughter to marry a Count's heir? 

But nothing about the proposed match made any sense unless perhaps Emperor Dorca had dropped a hint to his closest ally so that Tallie would be safely married off before his son returned from his latest galactic mission .

Selig had not been one of the Vor lordlings who pestered Tallie for dances or bribed the maids so that they could “accidentally” bump into her out riding. If anything he had seemed more interested in the Vorlakial twins and that wild distant cousin of his, Ellen Vorrutyer. The Count might not necessarily allow even his favourite son to choose his own bride freely but all three of these girls were rich, pretty and well born. Perhaps Ellen might be a shade too exuberant even for a Vorkosigan but that dowry of hers was enough to warm any Count's heart. 

The Vorkosigans usually looked to the other great military and political families for brides. It would be an exaggeration to describe the Vormuirs as back country hicks (and unwise to do so in Count Vormuir's hearing). However, there had been that unfortunate miscalculation on the part of Great Uncle Stefan when the young Emperor Dorca had first come to the throne over fifty years ago. After that, the few surviving Vormuirs had felt more comfortable keeping their heads down and living quietly on their estates. He wondered briefly if the shadow of his rebellious great uncle had cost Tallie her prince.

Then there was Tallie's dowry . Vormuir's district was a rich one but with four older sisters to dower, no one would expect Tallie's dowry to be more than respectable. Pierre had settled a round 100,000 marks on Sofia to see her married to the distant cousin whom he had reluctantly named as his heir. He did not begrudge the money – Sofia had had the decency to pop out two healthy boys already so at least he could hope that the Countship would return to his grandchildren . But it meant that Tallie would have barely 40,000 marks, more than enough for a second son or even some South Continent lordling , nowhere near enough for an Imperial Prince, even an ersatz one like Xav, or a healthy young Count's heir with no known vicious habits or unfortunate political shadows over his future. 

And then there was Tallie herself. Selig's bride would be his countess as well as his wife. How would his quiet, self-contained daughter cope with such a public role? 

Sofia would glory in being the first lady in the district, ruling the district whenever the Count was absent or wanted a day off fishing, intervening subtly -and not so subtly- even when he was there. He might find Sofia irritating at times , but he had been grateful enough when thirteen year old Sofia had taken charge of her motherless little sisters and the Vormuir household. 

He respected Sofia but he could never forgive her for not being his son and heir . Every time she demonstrated what a perfect son she would have been, his grudge grew more bitter and Sofia redoubled her efforts to prove herself.

No doubt, she would be a magnificent Countess Vormuir with her valkyrie good looks and commanding presence but he just wished that she would wait until he was on his funeral pyre or at least on his deathbed (no doubt Sofia would ensure that it was superbly appointed and that every possible relative would be coerced into attending) to start work.

Tallie was no Sofia though. She had been so slow to start speaking that Sofia had insisted that he take her to a fancy doctor in Vorbarr Sultana. It had taken the doctor less than an hour to find out that the only thing wrong with four year old Tallie was that her four older sisters were doing all her speaking for her. The doctor had recommended sending her to the village school a year early so that she could spend some time socialising with other children in less close contact with her sisters and spending some time alone with adults each day. It had been worth the 40 mark fee just to see Sofia's face. He had even embarassed the self-important little prole doctor by tipping him .

Sofia had said nothing on the way back to Vormuir House and had been unusually quiet on the journey back to their district. Pierre had wished he was a better, kinder father, someone who could find the right words to reach his daughters, someone who had not put his wife through that last fatal pregnancy in the hope of getting a son. He even wished he had been coldblooded enough to marry again and give his daughters a new mother. He groped awkwardly for the right words:

“You were right to insist on seeing that doctor. Now we know that Tallie's going to be fine.” 

It had seemed like little enough to offer but Sofia's face lost the bitter, tight look and she squeezed his hand. Had he starved her of praise so much that these small crumbs were a banquet? Undoubtedly, he had and taken a bitter pleasure from it. He could not make himself love his eldest daughter but he could do right by her . She was seventeen and for four years she had worked harder than any adult -any other adult- in his household with neither pay nor praise. He had not given one thought to her future -he hadn't even sent out babas for her or let her be seen at the right Vorbarra Sultana parties . 

Still, he had made up for it now and had bought her the position she deserved and the husband of her choice .It was time to find out what his youngest daughter wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> I do intend to continue with my Bonsanklar series but have ended up writing the Winterfair gifts to sort out some of my pre-canon questions and flesh out that universe before continuing with Kareen Vorbarra and a rather darker story.
> 
> I still have a bit more of Winterfair gifts to write. I'm planning a story about Martin Esterhazy ,Olivia Vorbarra and my viewpoint OFC character, Tallie Vormuir and also want to write about Piotr and Olivia's romance and what Olivia really got up to in the Cetagandan war. However, I'm continuing to have a problem with crusty old Vor men butting in - Emperor Dorca the not-so-just keeps bending my ear about his not-so diplomatic younger son Xav and his older son, Yuri.
> 
> I have tried to show a more human and rounded Piotr but by way of balance seem to have saddled him with a thoroughly unpleasant grandfather.


End file.
